


these sentiments are second hand

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:31:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3122033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has all the time in the world, but eventually all the time in the world catches up to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. uncovered

**Author's Note:**

> Based off an otpprompts post: Imagine Person A trapped in a time loop, forced to relive days over and over every time Person B dies. And B dies a lot. A has to keep saving them and at first tries to explain the loops to B, but after each rehearsed explanation, each drawn out conversation is erased by B’s many deaths, A eventually gives up and just works endlessly to continue each day a little longer until it might eventually stop.
> 
> (If you want to cry while reading this, there's [a handy dandy playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL0pxgJQykJeyR_kWNuAwKdqMRkDo3gtbY) to do that with.)

It’s been a long time.

He’s shoving his way through the swarm of people, feeling the heat of the flame caress his skin before he breaks through the barricade of bodies. Common sense is a lost luxury on him, the pulsing of his heart and the roaring of the fire drowns out the cries from the crowd. All that matters is getting into the building, the building where Ray is trapped inside somewhere. His instincts have kicked into hyperdrive by the time he manages to shove down the weakened door and into the heart of the fire; to someone on the outside he must have looked like a wild animal. His beanie gets yanked off and held up to his nose and mouth, attempting to stop the smoke suffocating him, and he runs further into the decaying building. Blue eyes frantically search every little inch of the floor, looking for a familiar purple hoodie or pair of glasses. He flinches every time another section of the framework breaks and collapses from the flame slowly eating away at the structure. Ray could be trapped under a piece of wood. Ray could have suffocated from the smoke. Ray could have been killed from the burns no doubt he was also gaining. _This time, it has to be this time._

He powers on through in the direction of their apartment, the last place he saw his boyfriend. The flames are the thickest here, the smoke obscuring his vision almost completely. Sections of wood and ashes are scattered everywhere, providing only more fuel to the fire. _This time._ He’s coughing more frequently now, his beanie and clothing soaked through with soot. The smoke stings in his eyes and the sweltering heat is scorching his skin wherever uncovered. In the corner he spots him, a brief flash of a purple sleeve from under a section of splintered tinder.

**“Ryan!”**

He chucks away the beanie, more kindling for the flames to swallow, and pushes through the last reserves of his energy to pull the tiny Hispanic out. Ray’s leg and lower part of his spine were crushed and he’s forced to carry his boyfriend over his shoulder fireman style, sprinting as fast as he can through the maze while the world is burning around them. _This time. This time. Please let him live this time._

**“Ryan, let me go!”**

They collided with one of the windows at the front of the building and soar through, the sound of crunching glass surrounding them. He hits the pavement with a loud crack, the shock throwing him off as he tumbles across the asphault. Blood roars inside his head and into his mouth, the smell of burnt flesh and feeling of shards digging into his skin heightened as he lies there on the concrete. He can hear the yelling of firefighters and paramedics as they swarm him, but he can’t make out anything what they’re saying. He can see them swarming around Ray as well, checking his vital signs. When he sees the defibrillator in one of the paramedic’s hands, he knows that he failed. _I saved you. I saved you. You’re not meant to die this time. You’re not meant to die._

**“Sir, what’s your name? Sir?”**

One of the paramedics is trying to reach him but to be truthful, the only thing he’s tuned into is Ray, Ray and his stupid purple hoodie, Ray and his stupid glasses, Ray and his stupid dumb smile, Ray that he didn’t save. It was supposed to be this time. And now it’s next time. Next time, he’ll save him.

**“Sir?!”**

**“James. James Ryan Haywood.”**

The ring on his left hand is cold, freezing where the rest of him is burning. He closes his eyes and he can’t feel the lingering burn of the fire. He can’t hear the final cracks of the foundation as apartment building caves in on itself. He can’t see the paramedics buzzing around him and Ray, trying to save them both. The air is still and quiet and cool on his raw skin. It’s stagnant and empty, dark and deep. It’s his oblivion.

_Would you like to restart?_

Yes.

_Everything not saved will be lost._

Continue.

 

 

It’s been a long time.

There are some loops when it’s drawn out and some loops when he can barely understand what’s happening. Ray had been tugging on his hand eagerly, pulling him along towards their local Gamestop like a child seeking approval from their parents. He simply chuckled and let him go off on his own accord. He was aware there was a game they didn’t get in at the office that Ray had been eyeing off for a while, and he was perfectly happy to browse the game store while the Puerto Rican looked for his game. The store was packed, a rather common sight in itself for a Saturday morning at one of the bigger malls in Austin. From in between the aisles, Ryan half-heartedly looked through the pitiful collection of Wii U games but poked his head up every 30 seconds to look at some of the other patrons in the store. A young boy around 10 scanning the copies of GTA V, a cluster of teenage boys and girls in a very heated argument (it seems to be in regards to Skyrim from the snatches of the conversation he heard), a father and his daughter around a display console, Ray with a 3DS game in his hand intensely sorting through the rack of Amiibos, and of course the cashier looking ever so uninterested and probably not getting paid enough for this.

Most of them seemed harmless but in his experiences, everyone who seems harmless is a threat. Too many times he’s let his guard down. Too many times he didn’t see the pattern. Too many times his ignorance resulted in blood on his hands. His gaze flickered between everyone in the crowded store, but settled on Ray the most. He barely noticed he was blocking the aisle until some cranky mother pushed through him.

It’s Saturday, a battle won in its own right but still not close enough. Weekends were when his nerves were the most frayed, when he was on highest alert, where he barely let Ray leave his sight. There was too much risk involved in weekends, too much which could go wrong. _This time. This time, he’ll live._ He can feel the weight of the ring, trying to pull his hand down even though it was already at his side. Instead he lifts up his hands and twists the obsidian ring around his finger, watching the light refract through the black glass and glitter like a tiny rainbow. He can still feel where his hand was a few seconds ago, almost like phantom limb syndrome. Like an amputee trying to wriggle his missing fingers, he’s too aware of where his left arm used to be and where Ray is in the store without having to look up. He feels the footsteps of his boyfriend, hears the faint tune he’s humming along to, smells the ghostly musk of his deodorant. This is a situation the both of them have been in before and only one of them knows it. _This time._

Ryan looks up and locks eyes with the kid at the counter. The cashier grins widely at him and his blood turns cold.

Quick bursts of light dance above him and gunshots ring in his ears before he can force himself to drop to the floor of the Gamestop. It knocks the air from his lungs and he struggles to gulp it back down as the scene around him is filled with gunpowder and screaming. His head shoots up immediately, searching the floor for Ray. His breath lodges in his throat for a second when he can’t see any signs of his boyfriend until he catches a glimpse of a Starbomb shirt leaning against one of the display bins. He waits through the agonizingly long seconds until the attackers cease fire before crawling across the carpet to Ray as discreetly as he could manage.

Ray’s breaths were coming in shallow gasps when he had inched over and he took no time pulling off his hoodie when he saw the state that his boyfriend was in. Although the shirt was black, Ryan could see the sheen of blood reflecting under the hot lights and the stain was spreading quickly.

**“Ray, where did the bullets enter?”**

**“You’re gonna ruin your hoodie.”**

He didn’t care. It was just an Achievement Hunter one; he could get another one from the warehouse if he bribed Jon. He had all the time in the fucking world to get another hoodie. Ray had next to none.

**“Where did you get shot?”**

**“Ryan, I’m--”**

**“Ray. Where’s the fucking wound.”**

The Hispanic gently lifts up his shirt to reveal his torso completely coated in sticky red blood and torn up around his stomach, four holes where the bullets entered his system. Ryan quickly pulls the shirt all the way off him and rips it into the best strips he can while rushing. He frantically uses the fabric bandages to tie around the wound and staunch the bleeding before pulling the hoodie around his shoulders to cover up his lack of shirt. This time. This time. He had to save him this time.

 **“Keep your voice down and your head low.”** Ryan whispered fiercely before shifting onto his feet and peeking out at the situation in the store. The two attackers, both with machine guns, were talking to the cashier albeit too quietly for him to hear. He could kill them. Take down the two with guns for hurting Ray and the cashier for letting it happen. He could kill them. He could.

**“Rye, I’m not going…”**

He looks back down at the Puerto Rican and shakes his head quickly. _No, this time. You’ll live this time, Ray. You have to._ He shifts back down onto his knees and when he sees Ray’s hand outstretched towards him, gently takes it in his.

 **“You’re gonna be alright, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”** _This time._

**“I’m not. I’m not going to make it, Rye.”**

**“You have to.”** _This time. Please._

 **“Ryan, I…”** His words were cut off by another round of gunshots and screaming, followed by a thud of a corpse on the carpet. It was one of the teenagers from the arguing group, trying to escape while the attackers were distracted. Her face was frozen in time, still mid-scream as she had died. The sight of her like that, a single trickle of dark red blood from the corner of her mouth, made Ryan feel sick to his stomach. Ray’s hand went limp in his.

The ring sparkled under the store lights and the floor was soaked in blood. The obsidian was cold against his pulsing anger and he closed his eyes. The air was cool and empty like it always was. The edge of the world was still the same as it always was. _Next time. It’ll be next time. Next time, we’ll live. I promise you, Ray. I’ll save you._

He was surrounded in black and he welcomed it like a long lost friend. He didn’t think about Ray who was dead next to him. He didn’t think about the body of the teenage girl perfectly preserved in terror. He was unchained in oblivion, but Ryan Haywood is still a dead man walking.

_Would you like to restart?_

Yes.

_Everything not saved will be lost._

Continue.

 

 

It’s been a long time.

He doesn’t remember the last time he hasn’t been afraid. He doesn’t remember the last time he hasn’t been on full alert outside. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s looked at Ray without feeling a sense of bottomless dread open in his stomach. He’s adapted to being vigilant, to always looking behind him, to expect the expected and unexpected. He’s adapted to _this time this time this time_ and _next time next time next time_. He’s adapted to the same Let’s Plays, the same antics in the office, the same editing troubles, and the same things on repeat over and over. Long sleeves and hoodies cover up the tattoos on his skin, the tally marks representing every loop. He tries not to remember the previous loops, the numerous times he’s been holding his boyfriend’s corpse. Fire, mugging, robbery, electricity, drowning, cutting, falling, assault, every time Ray’s lifeless eyes stared into his reduced to a black line carved into his flesh. Every reset brings the same week and results in the same end: Ray’s dead, he’s still alive, and he’s hearing the same words again. _Everything not saved will be lost._ It’s a reminder of what he failed to do, the blood on his hands, and every time he’s continued. He’s never taken off the ring, never made it past Sunday, never said no to the restart. It’s _this time_ and then it’s _next time_. He’s always continued and he’s always woken up on Monday morning to the same stupid jingle Ray set as his alarm.

It’s Tuesday. They just finished filming next week’s Minecraft Let’s Play, the one Ryan’s always won, the one that will never come out. He’s been slipping in and out of sleep ever since the half way mark, so instead of agreeing to go out to Chipotle with Michael, Lindsay, Geoff, and Ray, he stays back at the office. He’s made this decision before, Ray never ends up dying. He trusts the lad and gent more than he could admit and they never failed him in any loop before. This time won’t be different, and if it is, he has all the time in the world to fix it.

The Achievement Hunter office was quiet for once. Gavin and Jack were getting lunch, Caleb and Matt were busy editing, and Kdin and Jeremy had called in sick earlier in the morning. A rare occurrence in the loops, Ryan was alone in the office. He rubs his eyes underneath his glasses (something he didn’t remember putting on this morning) and takes off the vibrant green headphones he donned for recording. For someone who only had a piece of toast as breakfast since he slept through his alarm, hunger was surprisingly absent. Maybe it was simply the lack of sleep taking priority over lack of food. Either way, the couch shoved up against the green screen wall was as inviting in his memories as it was to him now. He looks around the office to confirm it was empty and slipps off his sneakers underneath his desk. It was only a quick nap and the others would wake him up when they came back if they needed him.

**“Ryan! Ryan, wake up!”**

Oh, he did. He wakes up and he felt like he’d just been dropped into a tub of ice water. He tries to sit up and instead bangs into someone hovering right above him. Dropping back onto the couch, Ryan hisses loudly at the red patch on his forehead that would end up turning into a bruise later in the day. He forces himself to gulp fresh air into his lungs, trying to chase off the lingering deliria of the nap and the images that plagued him from behind his eyelids. Without his glasses or his contacts, he couldn’t focus on any specific features but he saw the faint outline of a large nose and a circle of light accenting a mess of dirty blonde hair. Gavin. He grumbles, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie for his phone. Clicking on the screen, he squints to try and make out the time sans glasses. 2:31pm.

**“When everyone got back from lunch, we decided to let you rest but you started talking in your sleep and thrashing around.”**

Ryan doesn’t look at the Brit and wipes at his forehead, avoiding the sore patch where they collided. His hand returns covered in sweat, and he realises the rest of his body is soaked similarly. He tries to gulp, but his throat feels incredulously dry and heavy. He locks his phone and lets it drop onto his chest, closing his eyes. He’s mostly awake now but flashes of previous loops still dance before his vision, Ray’s body lying before him mutilated in countless ways.

**“Ryan… are you alright?”**

When he opens his eyes again, he immediately locks gaze with Gavin’s blue-green optics. He tries to force a smile at the younger man but it falters and results in a sigh instead. His hoodie started to slip off his body sometime when he was rolling around in his sleep, thick black lines creeping out from underneath the fabric. Ryan shakes his head when he notices Gavin’s focus stray towards the previously hidden tattoos.

**“I’m fine.”**

**“You look so tired.”**

He has all the time in the world, but eventually all the time in the world catches up to you. He can tell himself _this time_ for as long as he wants to, but he’s still just a ghost stuck on replay. He’s trying to extend what little time he and Ray have, and if he messes up, he can just try again. Maybe Gavin was paying more attention than he usually did. Maybe he had one foot in the grave. He has all the time in the world, and maybe Ryan’s already dead.


	2. unwinding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "now you've hit a wall and you're lost for words, my dear my dear my dear.  
> now you've hit a wall and you've hit it hard, my dear my dear oh dear."

Every waking moment is a fever dream, and every second spent with eyes closed is a nightmare. By the time Thursday rolls around, it already feels like the longest loop he’s ever undertaken. He’s barely gotten more than an hour of decent sleep since his nap at the office and there’s only enough coffee Ryan can consume before he never wants to taste caffeine again. The exhaustion only fuels his onset disembodiment from the rest of the world, hallucinations surrounding him whether his eyes are open or not. He knows his sudden insomnia is affecting Ray as well; the Hispanic had to move out to the couch because of his cycles of falling asleep and waking up screaming after half an hour. The two are quieter during recordings and the other Achievement Hunters can’t do anything but gently shake them awake when they fall asleep at their desks. That is, if one of Ryan’s lucid nightmares don’t wake them up.

He forces himself to be around someone else unless he absolutely has to be alone for the sake of his dignity. He constantly checks that someone else is in the office, or he’ll sit in the corner of the editors’ room finding a way to occupy his time one way or another. Caleb, Kdin, and Lindsay stopped noticing it after the fourth or fifth time. They’d glance up from their work every once in a while to see Ryan curled up in the fetal position playing with his ring or checking his phone, the harsh light only accenting the deep rings under his eyes. They felt sorry for him, but the irony of how the Mad King has fallen so far stuck with them. By the time Caleb could work up the nerve to ask him why he was in there, he only sighed softly and responded,

**“The hallucinations aren’t as bad if I’m not alone.”**

Lindsay doesn’t mention that The Patch is today. Nobody does. Ryan never forgets those kinds of things. He never brings it up and as the clock ticks closer to podcast time, they become increasingly more nervous. In the end, Jack replaces him and they leave him be in the editors’ room. After a while, Ray comes in and joins him on the floor. Neither of them speak, simply hold hands and try to fight off each other’s demons even if just for a moment.

 

 

Friday. He nearly wants to cry out and run around the office because it’s the end of the longest work week he’d ever suffered through. He almost forgets Friday signifies the start of Ray’s impending doom, the most dangerous part of his week. Ray could die tonight. Ray could die tomorrow. He almost forgets about _this time_ and as he glances at the Puerto Rican during work, the determination to see him live keeps the monsters inside his head at bay momentarily. As long as he’s still breathing, he’ll continue to protect Ray. He has to. They have to live.

He’s finished all his editing before 1pm, a new record. Although, he doesn’t consider it one as he’s lost track of all the times he’s edited the same videos. With all his duties for the week out of the way and no real desire to play any games for his progress will be wiped with the next loop, a half-delirious Ryan turns to the internet to curb his boredom. A rather large portion of his memory gone, suddenly someone’s tapping on his shoulder and he’s spinning around to see Gavin’s head poking up next to his chair.

**“Why are you so short…?”** He mumbled the question, fighting through the haze in his mind as he tries to comprehend when the Brit got there.

**“’Cause I’m kneeling. Bloody hell, how out of it are you?!”**

Ryan doesn’t answer the question because truthfully, the answer is far beyond him. He adjusts his posture to be more upright, causing him to knock off his lime green headphones and shake off some of his blanket. Wait, when did that…?

**“Where’d this come from?”** The question was directed towards Gavin as he picked at the black and green fibers of the blanket. It was one of the microplush ones from the store but he didn’t own one as far as he remembered.

**“It’s the one from the editors’ room. Ray threw it on you at some point before disappearing to bug Miles and Kerry. You were complaining about the cold earlier.”**

Was he? If Gavin was correct, that section of his memory was missing. The sudden gaps were starting to get on his nerves. Sudden short-term memory loss wasn’t a side effect of sleep deprivation as far as he could recall, or maybe it was. Maybe what he was doing was just so boring he erased it from his mind.

**“Also, uh, why are you watching videos of cats?”**

His eyebrows furrow, a look of confusion crossing his face, before he turns back towards his monitor. Open in his browser is a YouTube video of a bundle of tiny kittens in a basket, trying to claw their way out. Their soft mews leak from his headphones while Ryan squints at the screen, trying to figure out why on Earth he’s watching cat videos. As he clicks back through his history, he realised he’s been watching a _lot_ of cat videos.

**“I honestly don’t remember.”** He mumbles the answer, fiddling with the edges of the blanket still. Although he’s not looking directly at the Brit, he can feel blue-green eyes watching him intently. It was unnerving, how often he had caught Gavin looking at him over the past couple of days. His stare was so blank, like he was focused on not him but something behind him, yet he could see the yearning to do something to help. He wants to just sigh and tell him: _“I’m a time traveller; I’ve been stuck on a loop for God knows how long trying to save Ray, you’re not going to remember this, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_ He can’t, though. There’s still time between now and his boyfriend’s pre-determined death, and who knows what Gavin will do with the information during then. Ryan can feel the helplessness radiating off him, and he wants to do anything to tell him that everything will be okay. He figured out that there are no happy endings a long time ago, but the lad still has hope.

**“Ryan…”** Gavin speaks and he forces himself to meet the other’s gaze. He hates it but he can’t falter anymore. It’s the end of the week and he has to swallow the monsters. He can’t allow himself weakness now. **“Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Ray… he’s worried sick. We all are. You’re too quiet and you’ve been hiding away from us. Ray told me that you can’t sleep, that you keep waking up from nightmares and he thinks you’re having hallucinations. Ryan, you can’t isolate yourself. We want to help. I want to help.”**

Gavin’s naivety makes him want to scream, made him want to burst at the lad, made him want to crawl under his desk and sob. He wasn’t angry at him, but he wants to yell _you don’t get it you fucking idiot you can’t fix this i can’t fix this why do you want to help me_. He’s started to bring the other Hunters down with him and he refuses to bring the Brit further into this. Gavin doesn’t need to know about any of this. He has Meg and Dan and his family back in England and everyone else in the office and a life outside of this. He was stupid to let the lad accidentally see the tally marks. He was stupid to not just call in sick and avoid confrontation with him. All Ryan has left is Ray. He doesn’t need another liability.

**“You don’t…”** He forces himself to stop, to break eye contact with Gavin and his stupid watery eyes. **“You can’t help me, Gavin. You won’t remember this. I’m sorry you took pity on me. I’m sorry I’m so weak. You have a life outside of this and I can’t take that from you. I’ve caused enough damage already. I appreciate it, I really do, but don’t. Don’t help me.”**

Naturally, as soon as the words leave his lips, he regrets them. He regrets shutting everyone out, he regrets telling him so much, he regrets being so careless and letting people get attached. He regrets it, but he can still make sure Gavin doesn’t get entangled in this mess. Ryan can’t bring him down too. The nightmares are already bad enough.

He turns back towards his monitor and hastily closes the browser window, still displaying those goddamn cat videos. He’s trying his damnedest not to look back and see if the Brit is gone. Ryan’s desperately hoping that Gavin took the hint from his outburst, dropped the subject, and just left him alone. His mind is buzzing and he doesn’t want to think about it anymore. Fuck, he just wants this day to be over. He wants this all to be over. That wasn’t an option though, unless he saves Ray. Unless he saves Ray or takes off the ring. He glances down at his hand where the obsidian glitters as always underneath the office lights. The thick tally marks decorate every patch of skin up to his wrist and the sight of them makes him sick to his stomach. Wait, they should have been covered up by his hoodie. They’ve always been covered up by his hoodie. Ryan’s gaze moves up to see tanned hands gently tugging up his sleeve, exposing the tattoos.

**“Gavin!”** He jumps when he realises what the lad is doing, wrenching his arm away and hissing. **“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”**

**“Tell me what they are.”** The Brit’s voice is low although it’s completely unnecessary. It’s contrasting how different they are, how on edge and short tempered Ryan is with Gavin’s level headedness.

**“Leave me alone.”** It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. He was fucking infuriated, the urge to curse the other’s stubbornness invigorated. He wanted the subject dropped; he wanted to walk out of the office and have this goddamn loop reset so he can walk in on Monday and see a Gavin who wasn’t sticking his stupid massive nose into issues he didn’t know anything about.

**“Tell me what they are and I’ll drop it.”**

It was a compromise. Quid pro quo. The only question was if he was up for the risk. Gavin wasn’t going to remember, anyways.

He looks down at his exposed arm and reluctantly extends it back out. The Brit understood what he was doing and gently takes hold of his wrist, a thumb running over the inked skin there. Ryan wants to flinch and pull away but instead opts for clamping down on his lower lip and allows Gavin this little moment of intimacy he’ll never fucking get again. The sense of another person’s contact had become strangely foreign to him, considering the only person that he would let even dare touch him in any case was Ray. _Ray._

**“They’re reminders of my mistakes.”** It’s the only answer he can give without bursting into tears or having to kill Gavin before he runs off the knowledge.

**“Why would you want to remember?”**

**“Because I can’t forget.”**

Gavin looks down at his hand, Ryan follows suit, and he wished he didn’t because he can already taste the bile rising in his throat. He shuts his eyes and forces the image burned on the inside of his retinas to fade away. In the centre of his palm is a single red tally mark.

 

It’s Saturday and Ryan feels like he’s the one that’s going to die in the next 48 hours. He’s barely left Ray’s side since work ended last night except for when it’s absolutely necessary for their sanity. Maybe he’s too protective of the Hispanic, or that his boyfriend is scared as well. Ray hasn’t been his usual animated self recently, paralleling Ryan’s deteriorating state much too closely. They’re two sides of the same coin; while Ryan has demons nipping at his heels and plaguing his head, the same nightmares are affecting Ray in a less vocal manner. While one of them is quite literally losing their fucking mind, the other is the quiet anchor trying desperately to hold them together. One of them is trying to say _You’re killing yourself_ and the other wants to respond _But I’m already dead_.

Both of them come to a mutual agreement to have a low key weekend. Mainly because they’re too tired from sleep schedules thrown out the window in addition to trying to keep up appearances at work. (Ryan knows that Geoff had to try and cover up their lacklustre parts in the Let’s Plays through excuses or moving along the conversation. The thought makes him feel terrible.) It’s something that they need, just two days of playing games and eating takeout without having a care in the world. It was just them; Ray and Ryan, Ryan and Ray. No more faking it, no more endless days at the office. They had made it.

Ryan grimaces at the thought and thinks, _almost._ It’s still Saturday. He cannot fuck up this time. He doesn’t think his sanity will allow for it again.

Thankfully, he thinks this day was the most normal one he’s had this entire loop. The only time that either of them leaves the house that day is Ryan to pick up Thai food in the evening. Otherwise, the two of them sit around playing games and watching whatever they can find on Netflix that even vaguely piques their interests. The day shifts into night without much attention payed to it, a blur of alcohol and sloppy makeouts and bad 80s movies.

When he wakes up on Sunday morning, he falls out of bed, crawls towards the bathroom, and promptly empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

**“Dude, told ya Thai and liqueur don’t go together.”** Ray’s lilting voice floats through behind him and Ryan isn’t sure if he’s joking around or mocking him. He doesn’t even remember drinking that much last night… at least he thinks so.

**“I think I might be dead. Am I dead?”** His head is swaying and he thinks he might pass out if he gets up. God, he hasn’t been this hungover since… actually, he doesn’t remember. How the hell did they even have that much alcohol in the first place? Ray doesn’t drink and he seldom does. Did Geoff have a secret stash that he broke into and forgot about? Ryan doesn’t remember much of last night. Ryan doesn’t remember much of anything anymore.

**“You’re real, Ry. Come on.”** He feels arms wrapping around his torso and gently pulling him up; he understands the gesture and forces himself back onto his feet. Ray tries to unwrap himself from Ryan, but the older man immediately starts stumbling around so he settles for just one arm around his midsection. Ryan is basically pressing himself into the Hispanic to avoid fainting and getting a concussion as the two of them make their way into the kitchen.

**“So… uh, how much exactly did I drink last night?”** Talking is a lot of effort. Most basic functions are a lot of effort to him now. He had kind of forgotten what a hangover was like.

Ray snorts, his lips curling up into a smile. **“Oh, y’know, just nearly a whole bottle of Midori. Had to take it away from you every once in a while so you didn’t get alcohol poisoning. I don’t know how you did it honestly, shit smells like fucking liquid sugar.”**

**“That’s basically what it is.”**

**“I know. How out of it are you?”**

Ryan shrugs. His body feels unnaturally sluggish, mind out of focus. His usual clarity was long gone, his quick wit and ability to think on his feet. All the parts of him that made him the Mad King were beyond his reach. **“I don’t really know. It feels like you’re on a TV channel and I’m tuned into another one, one that’s empty. All I can really hear is just static.”**

**“Christ, are you always this much of a light weight?”**

He doesn’t answer. Ryan stopped drinking regularly when he was hired by Geoff and Jack, and that was at least 3 years ago. Even then, he wouldn’t drink a whole bottle of liqueur in one night.

**“…Let’s just go out and get some breakfast, okay Ry?”**

Ryan freezes up when he mentions leaving the house and suddenly he can see Ray’s corpse in the corner of his eye no matter wherever he looks. He remembers that it’s Sunday and that _it has to be this time_. His grip on the back of the Hispanic’s shirt tightens. He thinks he might throw up again.

**“Ryan?”**

**“Yeah… yeah, sure. Just give me a couple minutes.”**

When he checks his phone at Denny’s, there are 4 messages from Gavin.

_[ **txt;** Gavino] I need to talk to you, Ryan._

_[ **txt;** Gavino] I mean as soon as possible. It’s important._

_[ **txt;** Gavino] Either you’re still asleep or you’re ignoring me. Probably the latter._

_[ **txt;** Gavino] You can’t run forever, Haywood._

He doesn’t respond to the texts and instead turns off his phone. He can damn well try and run. When Ray asks what’s wrong, he only smiles half-heartedly and responds, **“Just tired.”**

**“Liar. You slept like a log last night.”** The Hispanic counters, chuckling and sliding a cup of coffee across the booth towards him. A smiley face is drawn on the top of the drink in creamer, white standing out against brown.

**“Cute, Narvaez. Real cute.”** Ryan can’t bring himself to stir in the creamer though and instead takes a sip of the coffee. It scalds the roof of his mouth and basically just tastes like vanilla creamer but it’ll do the job of helping to shake off his hangover fine.

Ray scoffs at the comment and sticks out his tongue. **“Well then, I’m sorry for trying to do a cute boyfriend thing to try and cheer you up. I forgot your status as Sir Dark and Brooding the Third. My bad.”** There’s barely any hint of malice behind his tone. Ryan simply smiles and takes another swig of the caffeinated drink. **“But I’m being honest, Ry. I think I need to get you drunk more often, then maybe I can stop sleeping out on the couch.”**

Ryan nearly chokes on his coffee, forcing himself to swallow and pretend nothing happened. Ray did have a point; he completely crashed from whenever he fell asleep last night. No nightmares, no insomnia, no near panic attacks, nothing at all. He couldn’t exactly rely on alcohol every night to stop his demons. It’s Sunday and all he needs to do is lay low. Get past midnight. Get to Monday. Get to Monday with Ray alive. Maybe then the nightmares will finally end.

Or maybe they never will.

They don’t bring it up again, instead talking about the various shenanigans in the office and upcoming events while plates of pancakes and more pots of coffee are brought out. It’s almost like when they first starting dating; on the nights where they’d be stuck editing or rendering videos for hours after everyone else had left, they usually went out afterwards and got waffles and milkshakes at 3am. They were typically the only ones there that early in the morning, but occasionally another sleepless group of friends would hear them sniggering in the corner over something that had happened in an upcoming Let’s Play or just the lack of rest getting to their heads. Ryan pretends this is just another one of those times, that Ray and him are the only one in the diner and that they’ll walk out holding hands as the sky gradually lightens above them.

Right before they’re about to leave, he catches a glimpse of something behind Ray. A figure standing by the entrance, a figure that looks almost exactly like his boyfriend. The only reason he says _almost_ is the other Ray has two distinct features: a crown of roses on his head and his eyes resembling glassy white orbs instead of actual eyes. Nobody else seems to have noticed except for Ryan, everyone else in the diner was completely unfazed. Even without an iris or pupil, this Ray (this _ghost Ray_ ) seemed to be staring right at him. When he rubbed his eyes, the apparition was gone.

 

 

**“I’m going out.”**

Ryan’s head shoots up immediately when he hears the phrase ‘going out’. Ray was standing by the front door, wearing his usual purple Twitch hoodie and holding his keys and wallet in one hand. He sets aside his laptop and is up off the couch before he can even begin to process the sentence.

**“Where?”**

**“Just to the 7/11 down the street. I want Sour Patch Kids.”** Ray quirks an eyebrow at how fast he was to get up. **“You don’t have to come.”**

**“I’m going to, anyways.”** It’s 8:41pm on Sunday night. He’s so close to the end of the loop and the thought of letting Ray go out on his own makes him feel sick. There’s too much risk involved, too much which could go wrong. Too many variables and not enough constants.

**“Ryan…”** Trying to argue would be nothing more than a waste of breath; he’s already putting his shoes on and has his phone in hand. **“I can take care of myself.”**

**“I never said that you couldn’t. I just…”** It wasn’t exactly like he could tell Ray why he can’t leave him alone, especially not now. He was so close to being able to go to bed and break the loop and keep the other _alive_ that any sort of potential for disaster wasn’t an option. He couldn’t do that to him. Not now. **“You never asked if I wanted to come.”**

**“Really? This has nothing to do with your sudden overprotective boyfriend act?”** Ryan forces himself to swallow the bile in his throat and nods once.

**“You want Sour Patch Kids, I want a Slurpee. Besides, fresh air wouldn’t kill me, right?”**

Ray smiles, an actual genuine shit-eating grin. **“So glad to hear that you’ve got your head out of your ass, Rye-Bread.”** He opens the door and gestures for the older man to go first. Ryan obliges, but not before sneakily kissing him on the cheek on the way through.

 

As predictable, the convenience store was pretty much deserted except for a group of teenagers trying to buy a pack of cigarettes without ID. Ryan fought the urge to just buy them the pack so they would shut the hell up, and so resorted to sniggering into his blue raspberry Slurpee. Ray was pretending he couldn’t find the candy section and was just wandering around the store just to listen to the antics of these sixteen year olds trying to convince the cashier they were old enough. It was unusually entertaining how confident they were in being able to pass off their age. In reality, it was failing miserably.

After the majority of the excitement wore off, Ryan and Ray gave the cashier a break from the whining teens to pay for their food and left the store. They sat on the curb outside the 7/11 for a while, trading over their treats to the other and so forth. A game of sorts formed out of how many Sour Patch Kids they could have shoved in their mouth at the same time before they had to desperately grab the Slurpee to ease the pain. Naturally, Ray came out on top but by the time he had gone back in to buy another box and finished that off, both of their mouths were completely sore and riddled with ulcers.

**“Please, let’s never do that again.”** Ryan said in short bursts, trying not to swallow too often. They had finished off an additional large Slurpee between the two of them during their little game and he honestly wanted to throw up if he had to think about consuming more sugar.

**“You’re such a lightweight, Rye. I thought you were better.”** The Hispanic jested, lightly jabbing his boyfriend in the ribs.

**“Not when I haven’t had sour candy in 10 years. My mouth feels like the pits of Hell.”**

Ray screwed up his face. **“Coulda gone without that image, thanks.”** Ryan simply chuckled in response, fiddling with the ring on his finger. What would happen to it if he broke the loop? Would it shatter entirely? Would it just cease to work and become just an ordinary ring? He tries to think back to when he had gotten it, but the only thing he could remember was that Michael had found it one day and Ray decided to steal it for him. Nothing else registered as vaguely related. Once again, he suddenly feels too nervous to take it off and gulps.

**“Hey, who’s that staring at us?”** He tore his focus from the ring and looked up to see what Ray was talking about. Directly across the street, a figure blended into the shadows underneath a broken streetlamp. The light would flicker erratically every couple of seconds, illuminating them in quick bursts. It was barely long enough for him to see it, much less get a clear cohesive view of them, but the fragments he caught looked like the ghost Ray from Denny’s. The same outfit that the living Ray was wearing next to him, the same crown of roses, the same blank white eyes. Red streaks dripped from his hair down his face and the specter’s mouth was open, like it was trying to scream but no noise would come out. Ryan squinted at the figure before the light came on again in another quick burst of flashes. The ghost Ray seemed to be looking straight at him again, and he realised that the rose crown was cutting into his head. He realised his face was covered in blood and that this other Ray was screaming for help he’d never get. The lamp finally went dark.

The figure stepped out from the darkness and bathed in moonlight was not Ray.

It was Gavin.

Ryan was so focused on the Brit’s sudden appearance that he didn’t notice Ray stepping out into the street until he was scrambling to grab hold of his wrist. His mind was buzzing and screaming a million and one things at him at the same time while he frantically got up and tried to stop the Hispanic from going over to Gavin. He wanted to yell _don’t don’t please don’t trust him i don’t know why he’s part of this_ but he’s clamped his teeth down on his lower lip that it starts bleeding and he’s turning his head and there’s a car and he’s yelling Ray’s name and the response is the sound of shattering glass and Gavin’s screaming.

**“Ray!”** His body is splayed out across the bonnet of the car, chunks of glass and blood sticking out of his head. He tumbles down and Ryan barely makes it in time to catch him from falling. He can feel Gavin around him, trying to hold back sobs but he ignores him and rushes Ray’s body across to the sidewalk. He doesn’t want to look down at the Hispanic because all the Sour Patch Kids and Slurpee from earlier might come back up. Ryan moves past the broken lamp into the light and Gavin’s hands are gently taking Ray from him and laying him down. There’s so much glass imbedded in his skin and his face is covered in cuts and blood and he can hear the Brit trying not to throw up next to him.

He knows that Ray is dead. He died before the car even came rushing around the corner. Ryan knew that he was going to try and parkour over it, but at the speed that fucking idiot was driving, Ray would just meet headfirst with the windshield. The only thing he can do is reach out and close his boyfriend’s eyelids with Gavin’s muffled crying in the background. He stands up and the obsidian ring is already cold.

**“R-Ryan… what are y-you doing?”** He forces himself not to look at the Brit or his goddamn puppy dog eyes, and instead slowly takes a few steps back.

**“He’s dead, Gavin.”**

**“You can’t leave him! We have to call 911 or something…”** Gavin was desperately fishing around his jacket for his phone; perhaps he was still clinging onto the hope that maybe Ray could be saved. The truth was Ryan had been here too many times before; too many times he’d desperately clung to a corpse in the hope that some higher power would take pity on him and just _bring him back_. If there was such a thing as fate or destiny, he wondered where in life it pointed a finger at him and said, ‘You see that guy? Just fuck him up for the rest of his life.’

**“Don’t, please don’t.”** He wonders if this was what he was like for the first few loops, while he was desperately struggling to figure out why Ray kept dying. Asking the world why this had happened, what he was meant to do about it. He and Gavin were nothing alike. They never were, and they never will be. **“I’m sorry.”**

**“Ryan!”** He was already running, running from Gavin and what used to be Ray and thinking _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._

_Would you like to restart?_

I couldn’t save him.

_Everything not saved will be lost._

I know.

The world went black and his sense of gravity was gone. Maybe he was floating. Maybe he wasn’t moving at all. He thinks he’s falling, and he wonders if he’ll ever touch the ground.

**“I’m sorry.”**

 

 

Ryan Haywood thinks he’s dead.

If he was speaking metaphorically, this was true. He died a long time ago, whenever he accepted the terms to this game. Maybe he was dead and this was just his body stuck on the figurative bridge that leads to the afterlife. It was a test he was playing with himself perhaps, penance for whatever had caused his aforementioned downfall. Maybe Ray was part of the reason he died. Maybe Ray killed him.

When he wakes up on Monday (a Monday where they still sleep in the same bed), he walks out to the kitchen and grabs a pair of scissors. Without stopping to think, he slices the skin from his inner elbow to his wrist. He bleeds.

He bleeds and so he endures.

Gavin shows no sign of remembering what happened to Ray. When he walks into the office, the lad is too busy with his hand shoved under the couch and one shoe on to utter more than an optimistic greeting in Ryan’s direction. He’s the same cheery lovable idiot that he always is and hopefully always will be. The fact makes him smile. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled.

He’s joined at the hip with Ray all day, bouncing jokes and quick-witted remarks off each other as the usual shenanigans happen in the office and Let’s Plays. They keep the positive vibes running, keeping the Achievement Hunter corner the same light-hearted and cheerful place it always is. He barely feels tired all day, possibly because he’s still running off the sleep from his hangover or a lot of diet Coke (and it’s most likely the latter). It almost feels like the old days, before the loops and the constant deaths. The constant caution and nervousness and endless impending feeling of something terrible on the horizon. For a while, he thinks this might have broken the loop. He thinks that until he goes to sleep that evening and the nightmares return in full force.

Of course, he wakes up Ray as well when the visions become too much. Instead of sighing and crawling out, the Hispanic only wraps his arms around Ryan’s torso and buries his face in his back. He waits a few minutes before asking for an explanation.

**“What are you doing?”**

**“Go back to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”**

Reluctantly, he complies and trusts Ray’s words. He already knew they were a promise.

 

Gavin approaches him on Wednesday.

Ray was out getting the both of them Subway and the office was considerably quieter. Geoff and Michael were fretting over an achievement guide, Jack was out getting lunch too, and Ryan had forgotten the Brit was still in the same office as them. Kid was quieter than a mouse.

**“Hey, uh, can I talk to you for a second?”**

Blue eyes narrow, looking over the lad. **“Why?”**

**“Do you need a reason for everything?”**

Ryan takes off his headphones and swivels around towards Gavin, folding his arms across his chest. He’s attempting the sternest ‘incredibly rude and morally ambiguous high school teacher’ look he can think of. Gavin just rolls his eyes, grabs him by the arm and drags him outside the office. The Brit looks around for anyone else near them before leaning in and speaking.

**“Look, I just need to ask you a question. That’s all.”**

He feels his heart sinking slightly but nods. **“Hurry up, then.”**

**“I was just thinking about you and Ray, and like the whole concept of soulmates and everything. If you ever met a person who you feel like you really do truly love, how far would you go to save them?”**

He wants to punch Gavin in the face. He wants to punch the fucking idiot in the fucking face and ask him how fucking long he’s been playing dumb. He knows this isn’t just a coincidence; there are too many constants for this to just be another one of his dumb existential crisis questions. Instead, he forces himself to swallow and answer the question.

**“If I really did love them, I’d do anything to see that they’re happy.”**

Gavin doesn’t answer immediately and presses his lips into a thin line, casting his eyes to his shoes. Ryan’s hands clench into fists and his nails dig into the skin. He needs to get a fucking grip. He’s not Michael; he’s not going to lash out at the lad in a flurry of blind anger. That’s just not who he is, but he was getting sick of Gavin running circles around him without him noticing.

**“Okay.”**

**“That’s it?”**

**“No.”** He grits his teeth, and suddenly the Brit is lifting up his hand and uncurling his fingers. Ryan wanted to ask what the hell he was doing until his eyes caught the glass ring refracting and scattering colours everywhere. **“Where did you get this?”**

**“You don’t remember?”** He snorts briefly, but when he tries to continue he hits a roadblock. _Where did you get this?_ He feels like he should remember this, he knows he should. It’s just a simple fact with most likely a silly story behind it. One of the lads sounds right, but the true origin of the ring eludes him. **“Michael found it one day in the bushes outside the old office, and then it got passed over to Ray who gave it to me as a present.”** Ryan couldn’t tell if it was a lie or real but it flowed so easily off his tongue that he assumed it was the truth. Gavin only nods once and turns away, back towards the office. **“Why did you want to know?”**

The lad doesn’t look back at him. **“Oh, I just thought your memory wasn’t as clouded as that. You’re better than lying straight to my face, Ryan.”**

Blood pounds in his ears and his stomach flips over several times and all he can think is _what the fuck what the fuck go away stop messing with this just leave me alone_. **“You’re hiding something from me.”**

**“You’re hiding something from yourself. A lot of things, apparently.”**

**“Just _cut the cryptic bullshit._ What are you not telling me?”**

Gavin turns back towards him with a smile on his face. Not one of smugness, not one of self-righteousness. He felt sad for the gent, felt pity towards him. Ryan wanted to slap the look off his goddamned face.

**“I gave you that ring.”**

The Brit walks off without another word, leaving Ryan to his own devices. By the time he snaps out of his stupor, he comes to one of two conclusions: Gavin is fucking with him or there is something very wrong with him. He can’t tell which could be more plausible anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the longest chapter of the fic. If the last chapter does top this, I will be surprised.  
> I'm also extremely sorry about the huge wait for this. I promise the ending to this will be posted sooner than you think.


	3. undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "the air is like lead and i've swallowed what i've said.  
> i'm a broken machine and a match already burned.  
> and i'm quiet, all despite the raging in my head, collapsed inside and out until my strength can return."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance.

Gavin asks the same question about soulmates of Michael, Jack, and Geoff during the Minecraft Let’s Play. They both reply similarly to Ryan, saying they’d go to great lengths for their significant other. Michael wonders out loud where the sudden wisdom came from, to which the lanky Brit laughs and responds, **“So you’re saying you’d be willing to die for Lindsay?”**

**“I mean, I’d try to avoid it as much as possible but if one of us had to bite the bullet then I would give myself up.”**

**“No questions asked?”**

**“Maybe a little bit of complaining, but no.”**

Ryan excuses himself from the recording, beelines for the bathroom, and throws up what little he had for lunch.

At one point or another, he registered the fact that he is fucked up beyond understanding. He almost wants to just ask Geoff if he can call in sick for the rest of the day and go home, but some part of him buried away in layers of fear and guilt tells him to stay and just keep up appearances. Instead, he resorts to hiding in the B Team’s office and wallowing in his misery for the rest of the afternoon. He doesn’t want to think about going back out there, to have to sit in the same room as Gavin when the lad is suddenly being all mysterious and spouting bullshit and making him wonder why someone else is suddenly pulling strings he had forgotten about. It’s like being stuck at square one again, when he was first trying to understand the loops. The only problem now is everything that’s been keeping him sane and the system more or less predictable is being challenged and flipped and _changed_. Everything Ryan had under control is suddenly not what it seems and he doesn’t know where the light at the end of the tunnel is. He doesn’t know if there even is one anymore.

The hallucinations he had been fighting off only return in full force, if he can even call them that. They feel too real now to simply be of his vividly decaying imagination, too loud and too bright and too much for him to shrug off or ignore. He sees Ray in his peripheral vision every way he turns, body mangled and torn and broken. The images dance around like he’s seeing stars, only long enough for him to notice them before they fade. He thinks he forgets how to speak that week, only form of communication are short glances and hand squeezes with Ray. Geoff takes him out of the Let’s Plays for the rest of the week on Wednesday and instead lets him do more editing work. Ryan doesn’t make a fuss over it. He doesn’t care about it. His mind is in a comatose state and his body moves along to its own stiff rhythm. For a while, he thinks this world may really just be a dream.

The line between reality and imagination became a blur long ago, and he realized he didn’t mind.

On Thursday, Ray forces him not to go to work ( **“You need a day to chill, Rye. You’re too burnt out to focus on anything.”** ) so he spends most of his day sleeping. Even when he does awaken, he feels hardly better than when he was asleep. As he’s wandering towards the kitchen trying to get a glass of water, he runs straight into a wall. Ryan feels like he could have just drifted through the wall and floated away, but in reality he’s got a sore patch on his forehead that will turn into a bruise tomorrow. Trying to distinguish whether you’re alive or somewhere along the way you snapped from trying to save your boyfriend from being killed every week is difficult when you feel like you exist in both states at the same time. Alive and dead. In this world and the next. All because of a stupid black glass ring and his selfish love for Ray Narvaez Jr.

The doorbell rings and he remembers that for now, he’s in the world of the living. He managed to fake the fact he was fine for who knows how long now. He can continue to do it until the clock hits Monday and his boyfriend is alive. Until Ryan Haywood sees to it that they can live. So when he opens the door and sees Gavin, he slams it in the Brit’s face.

**“Ryan!”**

Of course. _Of fucking course._ It couldn’t be anyone else but Gavin on the other side of the door. That would be too easy. The sound of banging ringed in his ears as the plank of wood he had his head leaning on vibrated in sync.

 **“C’mon Ryan, don’t be such a pleb.”** In this moment of time, he thought there was nothing more he hated than the sound of a British accent and Gavin’s slang terms. The banging refuses to let up and Ryan needs to come to a decision. Either way, to get the lad to leave him alone, he needs to open the door. Simply hoping he would give up after a while was not going to prove true with his prior experiences. He has to make a compromise. Reluctantly, he opens the door and Gavin all but barges into the apartment he shares with Ray.

 **“Finally! I was wondering if you were ever going to open the door or if I had to call Ray to let me in…”** The Brit’s train of thought dwindled off as he caught Ryan’s gaze, who had barely moved since he opened the door and was just glaring daggers into him. He let out a half-hearted chuckle, hand moving to rub the back of his neck before stating sheepishly, **“You look like shit.”**

**“Sorry you were expecting the Sistine Chapel. I’ve got my hands quite full with losing my mind. How have you been?”**

Gavin opened his mouth to reply before realising Ryan wasn’t expecting an answer to the question. Instead, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair before plopping down on the couch. The older man stays perfectly still in his place, waiting for the silence between them to break and to _hopefully_ get some form of an answer.

The Brit leans back before asking, **“Do you know how long it’s been?”**

Ryan opens his mouth to speak but stops when he doesn’t know the response. Another one of Gavin’s seemingly simple questions that proved he knew more than he should. If he was honest with himself, the loops had all blurred together in his head that by this point, he couldn’t properly distinguish them from one another.

 **“Five years, approximately 260 loops.”** It feels like Gavin’s words just forced all the air from his lungs and he’s struggling to force it back down while trying to process _five years_. If the lad noticed his reaction, he showed no difference towards it. **“260 times you’ve lived the same week, 260 times Ray has died. 260 times you broke your promise. 260 tattoos.”**

It can’t be. He can’t have spent five fucking years trying to save Ray. It can’t have been that long. It can’t have been five years of failed attempts and close calls and _next time._ Then again, Ryan is used to the universe fucking him over. He’s vaguely aware of Gavin’s hand on his shoulder and him hyperventilating.

**“So what, five years? Five years you’ve been watching over me losing my mind and gaining a fucking god complex out of it?!”**

**“You seem to think I’m the one who got you into this. I’m merely an observer. I cannot interfere with what you came back to finish and I am not the one who created the door that gave you this second chance.”**

Ryan lets out a short and soft scoff at the comment, wondering briefly where the sudden wisdom had come from. **“What’s your purpose then? What the fuck are you here for, Gavin?”**

**“You’re not the only one who’s going through the loops. While they are focused and influenced by your actions, I’m affected by them as well. Think of them as a version of the Matrix; once you’re aware of it, you can’t really fool yourself again. You know this is all a hallucination, a fragmentation of your memories placed back together in the wrong order. The rules don’t apply to you anymore, per say.”**

**“So we’re the only ones who can remember previous loops.”** But why Gavin of all people? He was Achievement Hunter’s resident dumbass, the last person he’d expect to jump on the joyride straight to hell with a detour through slowly going batshit insane town. **“You didn’t answer my question from before.”**

The Brit simply shrugs. **“I’m just a bystander. You’re the one who opens the door.”**

**“And that means?”**

**“Whatever you infer it to be, James Ryan Haywood. I can’t make your decisions for you, even if I wanted to. I’m just part of the white noise.”**

After Gavin gets up and leaves, Ryan locks the front door before crawling onto the couch and allowing himself to cry for the first time in a long time.

 

He goes back to work the next day. He can’t exactly allow himself to wallow in self-pity anymore, not when it’s dragging the rest of the Achievement Hunters down. Even if he just has to pretend, he can’t allow the weight of everyone else on his shoulders as well. This was his battle alone and he had to fight on his own. There was no way anybody else could know what he had gone through. He remembers Gavin and physically flinches at the thought.

The rest of his coworkers (although surrogate family is a more apt term these days) are still very touchy around him as if they don’t want to break him further. He doesn’t mind all that much but if anything he appreciates their gentle concern. He hopes they’ve been looking after Ray while he’s been away. Ryan catches himself glancing over at the lads’ desks quite often, and most of the time he sees Ray talking to Michael or Gavin. The sight makes him smile; being able to see his boyfriend is doing okay. In the end, that’s all it’s ever come down to. He thinks to himself, _I’m sorry I’m such a shitty boyfriend. You don’t understand half the hell I’ve been through for you._

 **“Hey buddy, you doing alright?”** He’s slightly startled when he hears Geoff’s voice in such close proximity and swings around in his chair to see the mustachoed man. Quickly slipping his headphones off his ears, he nods once in response to the question.

 **“Yeah. Yeah, I’m doing better. Thanks.”** He could tell there was genuine concern in the older gent’s voice. Geoff smiles and pats his on the back before returning to his own desk. **“Oh, uh, I had a question.”**

**“Shoot.”**

**“Could I return to the Let’s Plays? Editing just gets a little bit tedious after a while.”**

Geoff’s smile widens into a grin. **“I thought you’d never ask, Ryan. ‘Course you can.”**

 **“Thanks, Geoff.”** He readjusts his headphones and turns towards his monitor, a subtle smile forming on his lips. It was about time the feared Mad King made his return, after all.

After a couple hours, they had finished up their allocated recording quota for the morning. Activities in the office dispersed as everyone went off to do their own tasks. Ryan was about to excuse himself to go get lunch when Gavin tugged on the back of his shirt, own wallet and keys in his hand. It seemed he had a potential companion for lunch or perhaps the Brit just wanted to leech off his driving license. Either way, he shrugged and allowed the lad to come along.

 **“You were going to ask me something, right?”** He asks when they finally get into his car, breaking the silence between them.

Gavin looks at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion (or perhaps it was curiosity). **“I guessed you were the one with the questions but yes.”**

 **“Figures.”** He twisted the key in the ignition and the engine slowly rumbles to life. **“So, Mr. Omniscient, how’d you figure it out? Had you just known all along?”**

The Brit licks his lips and hesitates before speaking, **“Unlike you, the past 5 years have actually been that. For me, it isn’t one week on repeat but a continuous stretch of time in which every Monday Ray happens to show back up on the doorstep even though I saw his corpse on Thursday. It’s kinda hard to not figure it out. Everyone’s disjointed memories and the repeated Let’s Plays as well are kind of a dead giveaway. I only discovered you were the method behind the madness because you were the only variable. I watched you slowly get wearier compared to the others and started to wonder where all the tattoos were coming from.”**

**“Why can’t you affect anything?”**

**“I don’t know. I tried a couple times to save Ray but you didn’t even notice me. I didn’t create the door so I figured this wasn’t my universe to tamper with.”**

He noticed him in the last loop when Ray was hit by that car outside the 7/11. The Puerto Rican was already by the time Gavin could do anything though. Maybe it mattered during his last dying moments the involvement of the Brit? Ryan couldn’t remember his involvement prior to these two past loops.

**“Huh. You are really just an observer.”**

The lad shrugs in response. **“I can still sense some things though. Like I can tell in a way when Ray dies, it’s kind of like a sixth sense.”**

Ryan was about to finally pull out of the parking space but immediately froze. It was a pretty ambiguous statement, telling when Ray died could mean anything. There was one connotation to it that he didn’t really want to hear, though. **“Wh-, uh, what do you mean by that?”**

**“It’s mostly like a premotion, I suppose. Sometimes when I can look at him, I can catch a glimpse of the future. Where he was and occasionally a timeframe.”**

**“So you mean…”**

The corners of Gavin’s lips flickered up briefly into a smile before settling. **“I can’t see that now. This time, I look at Ray and see nothing.”**

Ryan hoped that he meant that wasn’t just going to be a repeat of the past 5 years. After all this chance, he might _finally_ have a chance. If Gavin couldn’t see anything, there was a possibility Ray wasn’t going to die. There was a possibility this could be the last loop.

 **“Hey, Mad King, are we going to Chipotle or not?”** Despite Gavin’s cheeky comment, he couldn’t wipe the stupid wide shit-eating grin off his face even if he tried. After all this time, there was the faintest glimmer of a light at the end of the tunnel. His efforts wouldn’t be in vain, this wouldn’t have been all for nothing and oh my God, he might be able to actually save Ray. The thoughts made him absolutely giddy and he didn’t think possibly anything could bring him down.

Then again, he had to believe that Gavin was telling the truth. If he wasn’t, then Ryan could probably just kill him. There was enough blood on his hands already that he wouldn’t be fazed by it.

 

 **“Hey, do you have anything in mind for dinner? Well, considering we’re probably going out tomorrow night.”** Of course, he had to look up at the exact time to find the Hispanic with his head lodged firmly in the fridge.

**“I don’t think you’re letting out enough cold air.”**

**“Haha. Hilarious. I’m still hungry.”** Ray slams the door shut before immediately turning around and heading for their pantry. Ryan sighs and sets the laptop down next to him before rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses.

**“I already had an idea but maybe I’ll just leave you to starve.”**

**“Like you would do that to your poor hungry deprived boyfriend… You wouldn’t, right?”**

He chuckles under his breath before getting up off the couch and making his way out onto their apartment’s balcony. **“I hope you’re not afraid of heights, then.”** Ray followed behind him curiously, watching as he reached up and tugged down the extension to the fire escape ladder to ground level. Honestly, Ryan had this idea in mind for ages now but never got to enact it because of being so distracted by just working tirelessly to keep Ray alive. After his chat with Gavin during their lunch break this afternoon, it was about time he remembered the weight he carried. Not just a life, but a human life with emotions and desires and passions.

 **“Have we ever used the fire escape? Will it ever hold our weight?”** Ryan was already starting to climb up but Ray stayed on their balcony, arms folded and seeming resolved to stay in his exact position. He shakes his head and reaches out a hand towards the tiny Hispanic.

 **“Come on, I won’t let you fall.”** He thinks that he has before but pushes the thoughts away. There was no time for nightmares and demons when he just wanted to do a little thing for his boyfriend. Reluctantly, Ray takes his hand and he leads him up the rickety fire escape that was probably due for maintenance. The trip felt longer than it took, most likely chalked up to Ryan freezing up every time the ladder made a noise or moved in the slightest, but after a couple minutes of climbing they stepped onto concrete again on the roof of their apartment building. He waits in silence for Ray to take in the scene.

Set up near the edge of the building was a lone picnic blanket, already laid out with two slices of pizza on plastic plates and two cans of soft drink. The corners of the blankets were held down with unlit candles, extra light not required while the sun was beginning to set above them. The sky looked akin to something on fire, yellow and orange and red all swirling together and casting a golden light on top of everything in its reach. Ryan could only hope that it would be enough.

 **“Awh, Rye, you do know the way to my heart. Pizza and terribly organised yet strangely romantic picnics.”** And it was enough and Ray was pulling him towards the blanket and the pizza already tasted like cold cardboard but it was enough it was enough it was _enough_. He felt relieved and happy, just allowing himself to relish in the moment. He couldn’t remember the last thing the two of them went on an actual date. Sure, they had certainly gone on a couple when they first started dating and he vaguely remembers they went to the movies once in a very early loop. After that, he had figured out what was happening and suddenly he started to shy himself away from everyone.

After a while, he realised that Ray was in his arms and he was running his fingers through the younger’s short black locks and the stars were already dancing over them and he didn’t remember how this had happened but he wasn’t going to complain about it at all.

 **“I miss this.”** Ray breaks the silence quietly and he thinks if he wasn’t paying attention properly he might have missed it.

**“What do you miss?”**

**“You.”** He moves in closer, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s torso. **“I was so scared that you really weren’t okay. Everyone else kept trying to comfort me but it wasn’t the same.”**

Ryan thinks that he still isn’t okay. He’s accumulated too many battle scars over the years, too many things he’s seen and done and suffered through that won’t ever leave him alone. It’s been hard to pretend recently, to trick him and act like everything’s fine and that he’s not falling apart. He wants to say that he’s never going to be okay but he remembers the light at the end of the tunnel and shuts his mouth.

**“I know and I’m sorry. I’m a piece of shit. You don’t… I never wanted you to hurt because of me.”**

**“You’re my piece of shit, y’know? ‘Course I’m going to worry, that’s what people who love you do. I want you to promise me though.”**

**“Promise what?”**

**“I don’t care if you have to go through hell and back, but promise me you won’t abandon me again like that. I wouldn’t do that to you, Ryan. Not in a million years.”**

He sighs but places a small kiss onto the top of Ray’s head before whispering, **“I promise you that I will protect you until my last dying breath or until we break up. Whichever is first.”**

He feels the Hispanic sniggering into his shirt but doesn’t mention anything until he hears a small, **“I love you, asshole.”**

**“And I to you, dickhead.”**

Lying under the stars, Ryan recalls one of their first close moments together as something more than friends was spent like this. They were sitting outside Stage 5 for a couple minutes before he awkwardly broke the silence and started to ramble about constellations most likely due to his sleep deprivation from late night editing. 10 minutes later, they were making out in the bathrooms. It’s strange to him how some people can be in such close proximity for a long time and have such a close connection that they never really touch upon. Ryan never really knew how to introduce the Achievement Hunters anymore because his relationship with them just was. There was no easy way to define something that couldn’t be understood, so he learnt to let things happen as they are. Ray and he had been in the same office for what seems like forever before they discovered their feelings for each other were mutual, and it hadn’t disrupted anything when they did. Their relationship simply existed, taking the path it may have been always destined to take.

In a way, he had forgotten what it meant to be human. He was never just accountable for himself or Ray, but he had reached out and affected so many different people that he held a little portion of each of them in his heart. Things tended to take their own shape as time went along and humans were helped to be shaped by other humans. In a way, he was glad not to define things. He was okay just to let relationships and events and people happen as they are, even if they made him sad sometimes.

It felt a lot like saying goodbye.

 

The way it happens, the scenario which the threads holding what he tried to call an existence unravelled, wasn’t something he could have planned for. In a way, he had seen it coming the whole time. He just didn’t know this was how it would play out.

It was Saturday evening. The sky above them was painted with swirls of light blue and pink, almost clear except for a few wispy clouds much higher than them. The temperature had already started to drop but the cool breeze wasn’t unwelcome. Ryan looked up to the sunset and exhaled. His chest didn’t feel like it was constricting nor was his heart beating double time. Everything was quiet, not in a foreboding way but a peaceful one. He reminded himself to keep breathing.

 **“Come _on_ , slowpoke!” **Ray’s voice reached him from where the Puerto Rican was standing further down the street, chastising him light-heartedly. He turned his gaze away from the sky and grinned before jogging to catch up with Ray. They were supposed to be meeting up at a park not far from the office for a “get together” which typically meant a barbeque with booze and something going wrong. Inevitably, the eleven Achievement Hunters would just give up and walk to Whataburger for dinner instead. It had been a while since Geoff had organised one of these and it had never occurred in the loops before. The thought didn’t necessarily bug him all that much. After last night, not much bugged Ryan about his impending doom. Everything seemed okay as Ray tugged on his hand while crossing the street and rambling on about whatever was on his mind.

 **“Hey, you’re the one who should be slowing down.”** He responded, gently nudging his boyfriend in the ribs. Their constant back and forth teasing felt so strange to him yet the jokes flowed so naturally it didn’t seem forced at all. This is what it used to be like, right? Before he got trapped in the loops and the only thing that mattered was saving Ray. It was so easy to _breathe_ , his chest feels so light. The disappearance of a weight he was so accustomed to he forgot it was even there. **“Do you reckon that Geoff will already be drunk-”**

 **“Ryan.”** Ray’s quiet murmur broke his concentration and he stopped at the edge of the sidewalk alongside the Hispanic. He lifted his head to see the intersection and oh God, he wishes he hadn’t. The mangled shell of someone’s car collided against a street lamp across from them, leaking fuel starting to fuel the fires. In the middle of the street, a figure stood watching the destruction unfold. When they turned out, Ryan felt almost relieved that it wasn’t Gavin but didn’t notice the revolver in his hand until it was pointed at Ray.

He felt Ray’s hand grasping for his and without saying a word, he gently grabbed hold. He saw the man with the gun move towards them, lips moving but words drowned out by the rush of white noise in his ears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Goddamnit, why now?! This was supposed to be the last loop. Ray wasn’t going to die this time; they were going to live through it. The cycle was going to be broken, so why were they here?! If Gavin had lied to him, _that fucker_ , he was going to murder him.

 **“I’m scared.”** Ryan barely heard what Ray said but didn’t respond. He knew. He knew because he was scared too. Scared and fearful and without control of the situation. He was completely unsure of what was going to happen and the results of this. The revolver was still pointed straight at Ray’s chest and Ryan still couldn’t hear what the other man was saying, shouting at this point. He squeezes Ray’s hand once as a small form of reassurance. His head was swaying and the ground no longer felt stable. All he could think was _please don’t kill him please don’t kill him please please please._ Any words he tried to form couldn’t move past the lump in his throat.

Ryan looked past the man with the gun, back towards the burning wreckage of metal that used to be a car. He blinked when he thinks he sees something moving, probably just the fires, but a few seconds later he watches as a figure starts to crawl out from the remains of the car. He’s initially confused when they seem to phase through some sections of metal but after he noticed the red crown of roses, it subsides. Instead, he stares quietly as the ghost Ray emerges out from the carnage before turning around and reaching his hand back into where he came out from. Another hand grabs onto it and it pulls back, trying to drag the other person out.

Ryan watches as he was pulled out of the metal remains. A version of him, if he was going to be precise. The other him was wearing the same attire they wore during Ten Little Roosters, with a golden crown perched crookedly on their head. Similar to ghost Ray, he was slightly translucent and passed through some of the wreckage with no effort at all. With the dipping sun, he looked almost shimmering in the fading yellow light. He wasn’t dead, though. There was only ever just a ghost of Ray.

There wasn’t. He remembers there wasn’t. Let’s Play Minecraft Episode 46 - Cloud Down. He had been getting tweets about it for months before actually going back to check the video. Near the very end before they went back to Achievement City, there was a short glimpse of two versions of his avatar on the screen; the actual one and a version of him similar to the glitched Ray from a couple episodes earlier. Ghost Ray was in the same episode as well but his glitch went unnoticed by them during the recording. A ghost Ray and a ghost Ryan that were now just standing next to the wrecked car and staring at him while their hands were intertwined. Ryan immediately noticed there was no ring on his ghost self’s hand, and finally the pieces started to fit together.

260 loops. Five years of Ray dying over and over and over and he finally understood. There was no way both of them could live. All this time, it always ended up with them separated. It just always happened to be Ray in front of the trigger. Ryan had kept on trying and trying and _trying_ to keep both of them alive but it never worked. It was never supposed to work. Someone was going to have to die and he never wanted it to be Ray. He had forgotten that this was all because he never wanted it to be Ray. It was because he loved Ray. It was what opened the door and it was what was going to close it. He knew because Gavin was standing behind the ghost versions of themselves and smiling sadly at him.

Ryan ripped the glass ring off his hand and stepped in front of Ray as the bang resounded in his ears. He doesn’t remember ever hitting the ground.

 

_“Hey, Michael. Do you believe in ghosts?”_

_“Gavin, if you’re gonna ask me another one of your dumb existential crisis questions while we’re in a goddamn cemetery, I’m confiscating the Phantom Flex.”_

_“I’m being serious. Do you think that ghosts exist?”_

_“I don’t know. Sure. Why are you asking?”_

_“…”_

_“Hey buddy, I know you miss them.”_

_“I think… I think if anyone was a ghost, it’d be Ryan and Ray. They wouldn’t move on easily. I don’t know. I just think that they would do anything to cling to the living. To each other.”_

_Michael smiles softly. “Isn’t that a saying or something? Don’t go where I can’t follow.”_

BrownMan has left the game. BM Vagabond has left the game.

 

 

 

 

_“No happy endings will ever find you._

_All of these ghosts, they’re from deep inside you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright then. Sit down and grab some popcorn (and probably a tissue) because I need to talk about this shit.  
> This started as a intrigue in Ghost Ray + Ryan while binge watching the MC Let's Plays and I decided to write a Raywood AU with them as ghosts. That fic eventually became this. This last chapter was meant to be posted on Valentine's Day but I was completely burnt out after Chapter 2 and life started getting in the way. Needless to say, I don't do deadlines.  
> The title of this fic came from The House You Built by Hands Like Houses and this was overall inspired by another song of theirs, The Definition of Not-Leaving. A lot of HLH songs went into writing this fic to be honest.  
> A big inspiration for this was a fic called The Shoots and Loops by guyi. It's basically like a version of this fic but based around Rayvin/Joelay and it's honestly one of the best things on this site. I don't think that TSASH would be the same as it is without reading that.  
> I hope you've enjoyed this mess of a fic and as always, thanks for reading!
> 
> (Oh, and that very last quote is from Salvaged by NateWantsToBattle. It's a song about Five Night's At Freddy 3, though. Just a warning if you're gonna look it up. Cheers.)


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